


Personal Notes (32) Unusual Dendrology.

by longhairshortfuse



Series: Carlos's Secret Diary [32]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Oranges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1832602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairshortfuse/pseuds/longhairshortfuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is worried that Cecil has stopped loving him and there's this weird orange juice everywhere. The forest helps out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Notes (32) Unusual Dendrology.

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably get a revision later, I'm tired but want to post it anyway.  
> Sadly, my slack couple of weeks at work are over and I'll be pretty busy for the next month or so. Opportunities for writing fanfic may be limited to coffee-drabbles.

After the auction, Cecil was understandably quite upset. He wanted to talk it over and it was so difficult not to tell him. I came so close to saying _it's okay my love, I own you_ but that is so not okay, just slightly less not okay than the alternatives. If our situations were reversed, I would be horrified. I wondered a few times what would have happened had I not bid. Nobody else bid on him. Would it have been like the auction didn't happen? I suspected not. Knowing a little of how this town runs there would have been some kind of sale-or-return policy in operation. I feel a little guilty at my own reaction. Dammit, I _liked_ the idea of owning Cecil, keeping him forever. 

But we got over it. I think I persuaded him that the whole thing was probably a stupid joke, petty revenge for the times he had pissed off the Sheriff's Secret Police. He found that idea plausible and a few days later we acted like the whole thing was forgotten. I took his mind off it with a bad movie marathon. We laughed at some of the dialogue, I think that is his equivalent of me picking apart the stupid science. For a couple of days afterwards we went out for a breakfast "ristrettothon", "tacotacular" lunch and "pizzocalypse" dinner. 

Cecil was mostly back to his unusual and surprising self but he started working really long hours. He still came home, not like me when I get so utterly absorbed in a science project and he comes to the lab to make me come home eventually. Cecil would go to the station at the usual time, late morning, to prepare for his broadcast then come back and shut himself in his study to write into the early hours. I'd take him coffee and kiss the top of his head but he always said he needed to work. I kind of understood, sometimes I really need science. If I'm stressed it's reassuring that some things just... work. He would come to bed without waking me and I'd get up and go to the lab without rousing him. We barely met. I missed him when he was right there beside me. 

A week of Cecil overworking took its toll. He was unhappy, he must be. I worried that he was hiding from me, avoiding me. I fretted that he regretted moving in together and tried to work out what I was doing or not doing that bothered him. Normally if I did something that upset him he would tell me, but he was never available to ask. I emailed and texted him as usual and he replied, always brief yeses and noes and loveyoutoos without his usual brand of strange endearments ("without you I'd be a brontosaurus without an intercostal clavicle"), selfies of him holding up strange objects or hugging the newest nervous-looking intern, and snippets about what he was doing ("Hey sweetie I'm at another press conference, guess what she did this time?"). I phoned the station but always ended up on hold. A few days of this chill and I was so preoccupied that I was useless at the lab. Gio and Estrella told me to take a day off and sort it out, after I confessed what was bothering me.

Next morning I stayed in bed with Cecil until he woke up. I said I had taken the day off because I missed him, did he want to bunk off too? He looked... confused, horrified, afraid one after the other. He didn't speak. But he held me and kissed me and told me he loved me in a way that I had missed. He didn't tell me why he had to work such long hours. He just said that the new regime was harder to work around than the old station management and he had to build up some trust with them, and that took a lot of thought and careful preparation of his show. We went out for a walk in the Whispering Forest, our surest way of avoiding surveillance as the trees like Cecil although they have not quite forgotten that I stopped them from assimilating Kirandeep, and he told me more. Cecil was still trying to broadcast messages to Tamika and her troops. But Strex _really_ wanted to know where she was so coding messages took a lot of time and effort. 

I had a solution. Let me help. "You know language and communication technology. I know practical science and numbers. Put that together and we can work out a different code every day if you need to," I offered.  
He hesitated. "I don't want to put you in danger."  
"Have you seen what I do for a living?"  
"Yes, but..."  
"But what? I've seen things, survived things I would never have believed a year and a half ago. And I love it." It was true, I have never valued life as much as I do now, and I could not remember the last time I had been bored in Night Vale. "Let me help you."  
The forest helped. No sound beyond leaves tossing, just thoughts appearing in my head and Cecil's simultaneously. _The Scientist can help the Voice, help us all, Night Vale needs you together._

"I suppose that's... settled then?" Cecil looked at me. I was elated, excited and afraid all at once.  
"Yes."  
"We can't work where we can't talk, so where can we go? Not home, not the station, not your lab."  
"Ah, I have, ah, an idea," I said. "If the forest doesn't mind, we can use, umm, cover..."  
Cecil looked at me and I flushed. "I mean, if we pretended we were coming here for some other purpose..."  
"Oh I get it!" said Cecil, violet eyes wide. "We could say we went... _jogging_ together in the forest!"  
"Yes, that is _exactly_ what I was thinking," I lied. I had the distinct impression that a couple of nearby trees were sniggering. An image flashed into my mind for just a second. Was it mine, Cecil's or the Forest's? It was certainly... graphic. Cecil seemed unaware so I did not mention it. 

We agreed that I would change my lab shifts to match Cecil's work pattern as that was not suspicious. People do that sort of thing all the time and it's not like Science cares what time of day it is. In any case, the postgrads would be pleased that I'd be doing evening shifts every day and letting them keep office hours if they wanted to. Only Gio worked as long hours as I did, and I suspected that missing Ell was the reason. Cecil and I would go to the forest in running kit and once past the first few trees the forest would cover us from all surveillance. We could work out secure ways to communicate with Tamika and her army and discuss what Strex might be up to. 

We went home as happier men. Cecil went to work but promised to be home straight after he had finished recording. I went to the lab and explained to the postgrads what I wanted to do to the shift schedule. They seemed supportive. Aleck asked when the new schedule started then called Susan, Estrella rolled her eyes but grabbed Leah's sleeve and pulled her into the break room. Gio just asked if I had heard from Ell. Ah, shit, no I had not. I wondered whether to air my suspicions about Ell and Strex. Fuck, we could use another ally. But I wasn't sure enough of Gio to tell him any of my fears. 

We had agreed that since we would work together on a code in the morning, there was no need for Cecil to hole up in his study all night. We could go out. We went to Rico's. We had the same as usual. Fungi & basil for Cecil, meatball for me. The only reason I order it is the way Cecil puts on his dirtiest voice and says "meat... balls.." to make me laugh. We got on to science topics, as usual. Cecil asked about measurement science. I told him everything has to have a number assigned to it, however arbitrary the scale might seem. I tried to explain temperature, the different scales used: Celsius, Fahrenheit, Rankine, Kelvin, Absolute, but he didn't seem to get it. Maybe I chose a bad example, temperature here is gauged in a scale that goes from "chilly" to "da-yum" 

By the time the pizza arrived, our conversation had moved on from the arbitrariness of measurement scales to the nature of reality. I tried to explain to Cecil that it is not possible to touch something truly as all objects are made from atoms, and around those atoms are orbital electrons, and all electrons have negative charge so they repel each other. I said that every time we touched each other it was the interaction of the electrons in his skin and the electrons in my skin repelling each other that we felt. Cecil seemed quite disturbed by this concept, that there was always a tiny gap and repulsive force between us. I tried to explain about the fundamental forces and how electrostatic repulsion was only one aspect of reality. 

That led to another discussion about what was real. I said that if I could record something, take meaningful results, then it was real. Cecil disagreed. He told me that what I record has been filtered through my own senses, ideas, perceptions and prejudices. All scientific data is, by its very human nature, biased. I asked him what he meant by "real" but he just looked at me and smiled that devastating smile again. "Carlos, oh Carlos, I wish I knew what was real. I perceive that you are a real entity capable of real action, but that is just my filter on the horror we face daily in this world." I had no answer but to hold him close as we walked home with my arm around his waist and tell him that this figment of his imagination loved him. 

As we reached our front door, my phone buzzed with a text from Gio. Two words, "she's home"  
I phoned him back straight away. I didn't call Ell, she hadn't told me she was on her way or emailed or texted or in any way communicated that she was due to return. Perhaps her phone was lost.

"Gio, is she really back?"  
"Yes, and glad to be here. Wanna talk to her?"  
"If she does, if not it can wait until tomorrow. No pressure?"  
"Okay..." a muffled sound. "She says she's tired, will see you tomorrow.'  
"Fine, you okay?"  
"hmmm," if a phone could grin, it grinned.  
"I'll... leave you to it I suppose. See you."  
"She says...," muffled noise, "you don't like oranges. Whatever. Night..."  
He hung up. Oranges? Later I wondered how, and what, she knew.

Cecil and I went straight to bed and I slept the best I have for days. Wrapped in his arms, knowing Ell was safe and I could sleep in with Cecil, just be normal for a while then help out with ways of sending messages to Tamika. Cecil must have felt better too because in the morning he whispered that he had already worked out today's code and could work out on me instead, at home or in the forest. Perhaps he had seen the same flitting vision as I had, of us naked in the forest under the trees. I chose at home, I didn't trust the trees not to talk. 

Around eleven, Cecil and I set off for town. He went to the radio station to get ready for his broadcast and I went to the lab. Ell seemed to be her usual self. She berated me for letting the lab get into a state, told me off for breaking into her computer (she had photographic evidence from the webcam) and finally hugged me for still being here and not coming to rescue her. She held Gio's hand, an action that surprised me. She can be affectionate, but not publicly. Maybe I don't count as public. Gio looked to be in a state halfway between slavish adoration and terror, which seemed entirely appropriate.

Cecil emailed me for information about a news item. John Peters, you know, reported that he had a bumper crop of oranges this year, the farmer (dammit!) but I knew that orange trees are not suited to deserts. Cecil asked for information about citrus trees and added some personal questions too. I replied that I am not an expert on botany or dendrology but John's farm was as dusty and featureless as always last month when I was last out there. I took the opportunity to remind Cecil that we had eaten out a lot recently and there were a couple of good things on TV so staying home would be nice, and would he pick up some more condoms and lube if he passed the store on the way home as we hadn't quite run out but I didn't want us to have to postpone anything when the mood was right because I wanted to make him do his beautiful bliss-face as often as he would let me. Maybe I could make it up to him for not taking him out to dinner tonight by making out a bit while the documentary was on and if he liked I could bring home some science kit to play with, and did he remember that we were bowling this weekend, his team against the science team, winner gets to wear the lab coat. 

I didn't expect him to read my email aloud word for word without checking it first, I was glad he stopped when he did. 

John's orange juice had some very odd effects. I sent Leah to get some for testing but made her wear a full hazmat suit including respirator, gloves and boots. She brought home samples for testing and the results were very interesting. Any object that the liquid touched eventually blinked out of existence leaving only void behind, It was as if space itself was negated. Poor intern Maureen, I hope we can figure out where she went and how to bring her back. It was good to hear that John was okay, he has been missing for months. However something just didn't ring true. I gathered the team and we headed out to the house that doesn't exist where Estrella was taking a shift. I confirmed my suspicions then emailed Cecil again. 

The team had looked in the window and they saw John Peters... you know... the farmer (DAMMIT!). They saw John sitting in a chair in an empty room staring at a picture on the wall. They could not see what was in the picture but John was sitting quietly staring at it, not moving. They called his name, they tried dialling his phone but he did not respond. They even knocked on the door. Nothing. Whoever this John Peters is, selling oranges and orange juice, is not the John Peters we know. I added that I thought we should eat out tonight. The store was out of everything except oranges. 

I had my portable radio on. I was helpless for the next event. Cecil announced that he had a visitor in the studio, John Peters, but we could still see John clearly through the window. There was a sound of a struggle then Cecil cut to the weather. I waited, knowing that if I followed my urge to rush to the studio I would be either unnecessary or too late to help. For a few terror-stricken minutes, I waited. 

Cecil returned and I breathed again. He described "John Peters, you know, the imposter?" as having tried to force him to eat an orange. Cecil described vividly what happened, and how he felt. About me, us. He told the whole community that he loved me. I abandoned the team and went straight home, sending Cecil a text I thought he would find amusing. I wanted him at home. I wanted him.

He was not home late. It had been a while since we had both managed to keep to an agreed schedule. When Cecil came in the door I led him upstairs, helped him out of his work clothes and shoved him into the shower, shedding my clothes and following soon after. We had a cool, leisurely shower, washed each other's hair, relaxed. No pressure, no agenda, no rush. I just wanted to be close to Cecil again. When we were done, he kissed me and said he hadn't forgotten.  
"What?" I asked.  
"The shopping list you emailed."  
I remembered. "Oh that!" and smiled, "good."  
I kissed him harder, swept him up and carried his giggling form to the bed.


End file.
